


Grave New World

by paynesgrey



Series: Grave New World [1]
Category: Heroes - Fandom
Genre: Alternate Universe, F/M, Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2010-09-26
Updated: 2010-09-26
Packaged: 2017-10-12 05:39:59
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 5
Words: 21,023
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/121402
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/paynesgrey/pseuds/paynesgrey
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>After Nathan Petrelli's revelation, the world panics and rejects people with special abilities. As fear and darkness spread, those who were once villains become the victims, a family is destroyed, and an innocent woman is forced to fight.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Freedom is Not Free

**Author's Note:**

> This was written for the Heroes Big Boom challenge on Livejournal. This story is a supposed future after Nathan's press conference at the end of Season 2 leading up to the events of "I am Become Death" in Season 3.
> 
> Warnings: character death, violence, torture, implied incest
> 
> Pairings: Peter/Claire, Sylar/Elle, Noah/Sandra, Claire/Rene (Haitian)
> 
> Thank you to my beta rtwofan and the contributing artist rebelle_elle.

_ Part One: Freedom is Not Free _

 

Fear opened and spread across the nation like a fresh bullet wound. Some prayed that it was a hoax, but evidence dictated otherwise. People with special abilities lived among us, and anything could happen. They could do anything, and people had no faith in others. Hope faded like a murmur in the ether, and the United States government took Nathan Petrelli's revelation in the only way they knew they could gain results.

They hunted people down and imprisoned them. Then, the experiments started.

Months rolled by, and anyone with any ability who did not register went to hiding, picking rural areas in Montana and Alaska to circumvent the inevitable. When the census worker came to their door for a blood sample, it was all over. They wouldn't even have time to shut the door, run upstairs to grab a bag, and run. The suits would be waiting with the dreaded white van, and they'd be taken away, separated from their families, and if they prayed hard, they'd be stuck in an internment camp instead of strapped to a steel table.

The Company was sieged. Many of the remaining staff escaped in time, but their files were taken by the government and used against them. It made finding people easier, and the most powerful ones were the biggest targets, their faces plastered on television, websites, and bulletin boards everywhere.

Sylar figured he was skilled enough at outsmarting the Company and the FBI before, so he made the mistake of underestimating the vigilance of the government this time. His powers were undoubtedly incredible, and if he'd had the chance to poke inside Claire Bennet's brain, he may have had a chance against them. He never figured the harmless old lady who spotted him in her neighborhood that day would call the police, and they were on him like a terrorist. In fact, that was what they called him, and he felt insulted. He'd rather be called a murderer than a traitor to his own country.

The government agents were smart, led by the infamous Special Agent Emile Danko, Sylar barely had a chance. Not many of Danko's underlings walked away from trying to capture him, but Danko had the upper hand. He had done his homework on Sylar, and he found his weakness.

Danko sent his first wave of agents after Sylar. They weren't his best agents of course, and he was willing to sacrifice them. When they were obliterated, Danko sent him another wave, and then another, still keeping track of Sylar's movements. When the serial killer figured the government was giving up on him, Danko found him, hiding out in an abandoned house in the desert, safe asleep with his own confidence and arrogance. When he came awake, it was too late. The place was surrounded, bombs had been set loose, and he put up a lackluster fight as his body shut down to the strong tear gas in the air. His last memory was of being bound, the face of his captor smirking down at him.

++

Captured specials were often handed around from facility to facility. Sylar was particularly dangerous, so he was given special treatment at the government's most covert and guarded facility in a place called Coyote Sands, once a forgotten compound for the government's experiments. His cell was so far underground the desert it took three floors by elevator to reach him. But Sylar didn't know any of this. They barely kept him conscious long enough to realize he was even still alive.

He'd been awake enough to meet one of his caretakers, a Dr. Horus Crabtree who took special interest in him, an odious man who made it one of his hobbies to mock him, tell him his stupid life history, and proclaim all the future breakthroughs Sylar was going to help him make.

Sylar met him long enough to hate him, to fantasize and wish for his death; however, as he faded in and out of consciousness, he started to doubt he'd ever have the chance.

++  
 _  
When they take you, you are little more than a dog. If they treat you as one, you consider yourself more than lucky._

First, they drug you and strap you to a table. The room is sterile, shiny with florescent lights and metal cabinets and tools. Their goal is clear; they will find your threshold no matter the costs. If your ability is weak and you die, that is your loss, not theirs. They don't concern themselves with the weak, so when they take you, they know that you aren't a lost cause. They know you will bring results.

Injection, Injection, Injection - they pump you with so many different drugs, you think you're head's going to spin clear off. They clean blood from your nose and ears, and you soil yourself so often you hope it stinks worse the next time, to annoy them, to delay their torture just that much longer.

Extraction, Extraction, Extraction - blood, brain matter, spinal fluid, they rip away pieces of you, so often you almost welcome death. You welcome the possibility the doctor will screw up and steal too much, sending you in cardiac arrest - sending you to finality that you've come to believe is your only solace.

You die a couple times, but they bring you back, while you resist and fight your place in their world. He grins at you, and you can only wish for terrible things to happen to him. You begin to believe in karma, just a little, because you know this is why you're suffering. You think of kinder doctors of other days, the doctors that gave you drugged tea and only strapped you to a chair to mock you.

Those were the halcyon days, but they are gone.

They bring **him** for the first time. You wonder if this is their last test. Probably not, but that doesn't mean it isn't the worst.

He's like you, but he's a traitor - like you once were, but you see things differently now. You almost feel compassion, remorse. Or maybe all pain is stronger now that you're here, the victim, the eternal lab rat.

He's special, and you almost crave his power. You think that your old life may not matter, but you wonder idly if things had been different, and if you had met this monster sooner. You could have had his power. You could have done so many things, but now it's too late. He's the one in control.

He can take your body and put your soul away, elsewhere - into a deep black unknown where your skeletons and demons dwell. Gabriel is there. He's like a friend you haven't seen since the last time you attended church. He asks you to pray, and while that monster is using your body, delighting in their experiments just so they can control you further, you close your eyes and somehow you remember the Lord's Prayer.

On the outside, he lets you feel every blood curdling rip and tear. He laughs while you bleed. Your body oozes and burns, bruised and bloody and broken.

You become scared. You think God has abandoned you. Maybe he has.

The monster leaves, but they use him again, sporadically so you don't anticipate it. But the doctor is always there, leaning over you, promising you there's more to come like it's delicious candy.

You know the candy is always poisoned. Always.

Then, somewhere in the midst of it all, you start to lose your ability to feel the comfort of sleep. All you do is dream now, dreams that are not yours, of blood and ghosts that even if you did die, you could never ever hope to escape them.  


++

The Bennet household was almost back to normal, except for the absence of one family member. In the wake of Claire Bennet's disappearance, Lyle Bennet was pampered more than usual. "Mom!" he would protest, as Sandra Bennet ran her fingers through his hair and made sure to monitor every moment of his life. Sometimes Lyle expressed his wishes that Claire would come back to take the attention away from him, just so things would be normal again.

Noah Bennet would come home from his job at Staples, a rather low-key job for him, which he hated, but he wanted his involvement with the Company to be over. The government offered him many jobs, and he refused all of them. He was done with that business, and he didn't agree with the camps or the experimentation. He couldn't do it anymore because if he went on trying to catch specials again, every one of them would remind him of Claire. And he didn't want to be in the position to bag her if he did come across her. Like Sylar, Claire had been on top of the most wanted list for people with special abilities.

However, Sandra was always worried. "Do you think Claire is okay?" Her hands would tremble while holding her tea cup as she asked him.

"Sandra, Angela assured me that Nathan and Peter would keep her safe," Noah assured her, for like the hundredth time. Sandra couldn't get past those maternal instincts, though. If Claire wasn't in her sight, she'd worry regardless.

"I know," she said harshly. "Can you trust her, though?"

Noah Bennet knew better than anyone that Angela loved her family, but she was duplicitous enough to sell them out if it meant saving her own hide, or for some plan of hers that seemed ideal at the moment. Noah bit his lip and sighed. He put on his mask that even his wife couldn't get past. "Honey, you may not trust Angela, but please, trust Peter. If anyone will keep Claire safe, it's him. You know this. You met him."

Sandra's worries seemed to subside for the moment. Yes, they counted on Peter a lot. Nathan and Angela had the Devil's blood in them, and they were unreliable. Peter was different. If they had any hope during these times, it was because of Peter.

"Hey, Dad, you got another letter from this Pinehearst Company," Lyle said, coming through the door with his light backpack and mp3 player booming through the headphones around his neck. He handed Noah the starched white envelope, and both he and Sandra stared at Noah for his reaction.

Noah looked at the envelope and sighed. He turned to his family and gave them a forced smile. "They sure are persistent."

"Maybe you should think about it, dear," Sandra said, even though Noah warned her that Pinehearst was the Company that caused the downfall of Primatech. He knew very well they were behind more than scientific research and lobbying for the government. He tossed the envelope in the trash, which contained about three other ones from the last couple of days.

"I have, Sandra, and the answer is still no. No matter how much money they offer, I won't do that again."

"Yeah, because working as a Staples monkey is such an awesome job," Lyle said with a snort. His father's dangerous glare was reason enough for him to leave, and even stay in hiding through dinner.

++

"We've got another one for you, Dr. Crabtree," said an agent who approached him from behind. Horus Crabtree was drawing more blood from Sylar, and he turned around when he was through with his task and met the officer with excited eyes.

"Oh?" he asked. The agent smiled toothily.

"You ever heard of an Elle Bishop? Her father was in charge of that defunct company." The agent glanced and Sylar, unconscious and strapped to the table. "This one here killed her father. She doesn't know about it yet, but the government found him dead, in Sylar's style, before they raided the Company."

"Ah yes, Elle Bishop - electrical manipulation," he mused aloud. He stroked the white stubble on his chin. He stared down at Sylar in stark contemplation, and an idea seemed to slither into his head. He mumbled to himself, sniffing and then clearing his throat. "She will be interesting to study. Bring her down here." He pointed to the empty table next to his other patient. "Put her there."

"Sir, the subject needs to be doused with water so she does not use her powers," he said.

"That will not be necessary. I will barely keep her conscious, like this one." He furrowed his brow as he lifted his chin in unwavering confidence. As usual, the doctor moved about the facility with stoic air, as if he didn't have an ounce of fear in his whole body for these specials or what they could do. "This one is more powerful than she is, and I have had no problems with him. She will be easy, like a little kitten." He snorted with a superior laugh as the agent nodded and turned.

++

Peter and Claire were constantly on the run. It was funny, but before they prevented New York from blowing up, Claire had always imagined this. It was better than traveling with Rene and Angela to Canada or France. Anywhere Peter went Claire wanted to be there with him. It was the only time she felt safe, and Peter's reassuring smile made her feel human to have such absurd fears. She was the girl who could never get hurt, but if the government was experimenting on people, Peter assured her that she could.

Nathan and Angela used their connections to hide them now; however, Nathan had made too many deals to save himself from experimentation, and he served as national symbol of a subjugated special, cooperative and collared at the President's side. A lot of special people were doing this, but they were only safe if they had money behind them.

Angela had enough money to help Nathan, but not for Peter and Claire. Peter wasn't even sure where the money came from, but he heard from a reluctant Rene that it an anonymous source.

Even Rene had to go on the run, but Claire knew him well and prayed for his safety. She took comfort knowing the mysterious Haitian was good at blending into the shadows.

"Dollar for your thoughts?" Peter said to her, bringing her out of her trance. The two of them were settling down in a local Bed & Breakfast in Kansas for the night. The town they found, Riley, was fairly small, and Peter was confident they were safe from any government officials, even though Claire disagreed with him. She seemed to think hiding out in a more populous city like Los Angeles or Chicago would drown them out in a sea of people, unnoticed.

"A whole dollar, wow," Claire said with a giggle. She met her uncle's eyes, and as usual, he watched her with noble concern.

"Well, you look hungry... as well as preoccupied." He paused, and Claire shook her head. "I promise you. We'll be fine here. "

"Is that Peter with or without powers talking?" she asked.

"With," he answered sheepishly, and he tapped his skull. "I'm keeping the lines open thanks to Matt Parkman. I think I'm starting to get better with his abilities."

"Well, good, I just hope you don't go crazy with all those voices in your head," Claire said, taking a quick peek out of the thick brown curtains of the hotel room. She drew them back quickly.

"That makes two of us," Peter said with a sigh. "Let's get some sleep tonight. We're checking out tonight though. I still don't trust the motel manager. His thoughts are... greedy, and he's been watching the news a lot. I say we ship out and head north, toward Montana. I have a buddy there that lives in the middle of nowhere."

"Is he like us?" Claire asked, instantly cautious.

Peter nodded. "Yeah. He was lucky though. The moment they started rounding up people, he called me and said he'd be moving out there to his family's ranch. He's originally from New York. He'll help us for sure."

"So what does he do?" Claire asked curiously, and Peter shot her a warning glare.

"Never mind. Time for bed," he said, becoming instantly cold to her. Claire stared at him with a pout as the lights went out, and he rolled over on his bed, with his back facing her.

++

"Good, good, this is very good," Dr. Crabtree said, turning to his assistant Mika. "Ms. Bishop is very powerful, and her body is very healthy," he said, looking her down. He pulled the thin white sheet over her naked body, and he moved around her confidently, knowing full well if she wasn't so drugged, she'd fry him to a crisp for violating her so much.

"Will you perform your ultimate experiment on her, Doctor?" Mika asked. Mika was no mere lab flunky, and Dr. Horus Crabtree took a special interest in him because he had a special ability. The doctor had bargained for the government to keep Mika from the camps and experiments (even though Crabtree did indulge him in other ways, and Mika had let him).

"Yes, I think I shall," he said, turning his dark gaze from Elle to Sylar. "These two, they would make a perfect match, don't you think?" Mika nodded with a neutral expression. "Horrible parents but excellent breeding stock." Dr. Crabtree was actually grinning, and Ivan's placidity transformed into cautious mirth. "Yes, they will be perfect. Mika!" He softly rested his hand on his assistant's shoulder, who jumped slightly in surprise. "I will do what The Company succeeded in doing, but failed in containing. I will create the perfect superhuman soldier."

His expression turned brighter, painted with excitement for the insidious things to come, but Mika's smile thinned when Dr. Crabtree gave the order for an extremely large needle.

++

Peter thought he was dreaming that night, but soon he realized he wasn't, not really, as lucid dreams turned into recent memory of when he was talking with his brother.  
 _  
"You have to come with me, Nathan. I won't leave you," Peter said determined. He still couldn't believe his brother had outed them all, and he only hoped that Nathan knew what he was doing._

Nathan put a comforting hand on his shoulder and smiled; it was a smile that Peter could never deny. "Pete, you have to. This is what I'm good at doing. I can reach the public, and I can try to give us a better name."

Peter frowned. "I don't believe you. What can you possibly do? They're going to start hunting us, Nathan. I've seen this future! I fought, you... you too, we fought to stop this from happening."

Nathan shook his head. "It won't be that future, Pete. I promise you. I have a plan, and the President's administration is working with me on it." His hand squeezed Peter's arm and let go. He straightened his tie, and Peter glanced outside his office door with their mother waiting for him. "Now get going. You have a head start; they gave me that at least."

Peter glared at Nathan and then at Angela. He stalked out the door, trying to hold back the sobs. He felt Nathan watching him, and when a tear escaped his eye, Peter turned around, making sure his brother had seen it.

Nathan's expression did not change. He nodded once and Peter turned his heel. He cried as he started running.

Peter felt Claire stir behind him. He wiped the wetness from his eyes, and took a deep breath. He heard her whisper in the bed beside his. "Are you okay, Peter?"

"Yeah," he said, his whisper louder than hers. "I just had a dream."

"I hope it was a good one," Claire said, and he could feel her shudder, even in the other bed.

"Neither good or bad," he said sighing, staring at the ceiling. "Not really a dream either. A memory."

Silence drowned the room. Then, one of his many pre-paid phones rang, and he didn't know if he should be grateful for it breaking up the awkwardness between them, or dreading who was calling him. Only a few people had access to the numbers of his piles of phones.

"Yes?" he asked, after quickly fishing out the noisy, flashing phone.

"Peter, it's your mother," said the voice, and his spirits wilted. This couldn't be good.

"What do you want? You know you should only use this phone for emergencies," Peter snapped at her. Suddenly he felt a weight on his bed, and Claire was climbing over to sit next to him and hear the conversation.

"And it is," she said with her usual cold tone. "It's time, Peter. We need to get the government's attention and start rescuing specials." She paused, and Peter was respectful not to interrupt; however, he didn't like where this was going. "The experiments are going to get uglier."

"What do you mean?" Peter asked. He didn't know how it could get worse. From the things he'd heard, the experiments were brutal, even fatal in some cases. Many specials had their rights taken away from them, split from their families and tortured to their worst limits. How could it possibly get worse than that?

"The Pinehearst lobbyists are recruiting the strongest specials. Your brother is one of them. They're working on something secret, something he won't even tell me. I'm just supposed to stay at home and be a good mother, without interfering. But he doesn't know my sources. A lot of money has been funneling into this Pinehearst division and signs point to more experimentation." Peter gasped, but his mother continued. "The experimentation isn't the part that worries me, Peter. What worries me is the recruitment. High-level specials are disappearing from the camps and it only could mean that Pinehearst is going to use them."

"For what? They can't convince them to work for them after torturing them! Maybe some, but most people wouldn't agree to that," Peter said, and he heard his mother sigh with exasperation on the other end.

"You really think you know people that well, Peter?" Angela asked, and Peter bit his lip. He could feel Claire staring at him from the side, but he didn't dare look. She was probably giving him that usual look of pity. "Regardless, it's time to start springing people."

"What about Claire? I can't just leave her. We haven't even made it to Wyoming yet. I have a friend there," Peter said, but he was cut short.

"Cancel it. You both are going to start rescuing people," Angela said, and immediately Peter protested.

"No, mom. I'm not bringing Claire into this. She's not going to fight," Peter said, and quickly, he felt Claire yank the phone from his hand.

"I'll do it," she said, and he met Claire's glare. "I can't get hurt, so I'll help Peter in whatever way I can."

"Claire…" Peter started, and she shot him a warning look.

"I'm going. I'm tired of running," she said, her voice hard with determination. "It's time to fight and start helping people. We have these powers, so we should be using them."

Peter didn't say another word. He knew he couldn't argue with Claire not any more than he could argue with Angela. They both pushed him into a corner, and not even his golden ideas could save him from this.

Deep down he knew that both of them were right.


	2. The Becoming

_ Part Two: The Becoming _

_Nine months later…_

Elle was screaming from unbearable pain. Medical orderlies restrained her hands with metal clamps as she cried and tried to push the offensive child out her body and into the doctor's hands. She glared several times at the _other_ doctor watching her from the other side of the glass of her room. He had a contemptible smile on his face that she couldn't wait to sear off.

Why was this happening to her? She never wanted to give birth; she knew she would never be a mother. Her own mother had abandoned her, and her father … well, he wasn't hear any longer to yell at her or beat her down either.

And this baby… who was the father? They didn't tell her, and even though she knew they were using her. This was just another experimentation to take advantage of her powers. The father had to be powerful; what other reason would they impregnate someone like her if not to make a child who would grow up to be even stronger?

She didn't care about the child. Some months she did, and other months she dreamed of leaving it, just like her own mother had left her. But she couldn't. She cried in her cell, and it would tickle at her powers, subduing her, warning her that if she cried too much, she could short out.

Though, Elle doubted this doctor would even let her keep the baby anyway. She was just a tool to him, and so was her baby.

Once she killed him, once she got out of her, she'd take her baby and run away, leaving this whole facility a pile of charred rubble and ash.

Pain shot through Elle's spine and burned the nerves in her body and she screamed again. Another cry followed, louder and more distressed. When she looked through her propped-up legs she saw her baby and watched them clean him and cut the cord. Her baby had soft brown hair, and lots of it. Before she could reach for him, they doused her with a bucket of cold water again as they began to clean her up, trying to subdue her powers. The head doctor came in and took her baby into his arms and cooed at it. Her skin itched, and she wanting nothing more than to shock off his head. How dare he touch her baby? How dare he take him away!

"Ah, there you are little one. You are going to be a very powerful soldier someday," he said, and he drew his gaze away from the child and met Elle's raging eyes.

"See there is your proud mama. You will never know her," he said, mocking Elle as she was still restrained, lying in the miniature pool where she gave birth. The orderlies backed away, gearing up to throw water on her again. The doctor laughed at her. "You will never know your father, Sylar either." Elle froze, unable to process what he was saying. Was it the truth or was he just messing with her? Did they really force her to have Sylar's baby?

"You…you made me have Sylar's baby for your sick experiment?" she hollered, fighting and pulling at her restraints. "I'll kill you, bastard!" she screamed, and the room was suddenly filled with uncontrollable, wild lightening that seeped inside her and made her scream along with the orderlies next to her. The doctor quickly slipped out of the room and evaded the charge.

Suddenly, as electrical bursts filled the room, the sprinklers came on automatically, which only added to the physical pain Elle was feeling. Still, she couldn't make it stop. Her powers tied into her grief and anger and were going haywire, and she could hear her baby crying in the other closed off room. The windows must have been made of something to deter her powers because the doctor was unaffected. She was almost glad because then her baby would be struck too. She watched as the doctor handed her baby to a nurse, a wet nurse presumably, and the two of them began walking away as the doctor shot her one last insidious smile.

Elle wept, and soon her powers began to flicker and fade out. The water in the pool in which she was restrained to give birth turned into steam, and the room was charred and burnt as water from the sprinklers started to dry. Then, the doctor and wet nurse left her there with the dead orderlies, in her own filth and sorrow, and she passed out from the pain with her tears as the last thing to dry.

++

Sandra Bennet caught him taking a phone call. She should have known her husband would never just give up. She caught him talking to a pre-paid unknown phone and he had to confess. Noah was still taking orders from Angela Petrelli.

Of course, this was all in exchange for Claire's freedom and safety. This was what her husband tried to tell her, but she just sighed and let it sink it. No matter what he said, she knew that secretly he enjoyed his job as a Company man, and even the government or Pinehearst could take that away from him.

"Why didn't you just tell me, Noah? I would have understood if it was for Claire," Sandra said, rubbing her temple. Her husband held her arms and pulled her close, and automatically, she rested against his chest, her face nuzzling into his warmth.

"I didn't think you would approve. Plus," and he paused and she waited for the rest of the excuse, "if the government came, I didn't want to risk you or Lyle with that knowledge. If anyone was going to fall for this, it should only be me."

"What about Claire?" Noah had said she and Peter would be fighting too. "Noah, it's much too dangerous for her."

"I couldn't argue with Angela on that, Sandra," he said, kissing her forehead, and she watched him continue with information she could tell was hurting him. "Despite what you think, Claire just hasn't been just running. She and Peter have been fighting and liberating specials from camps for a long time, almost a year."

"You knew this?" she asked him, a little perturbed. Her stomach suddenly felt unsettled. Something about her little girl fighting and going up against the government just didn't feel right. Instantly, she was terrified for her, despite knowing that her daughter couldn't physically get hurt. But she knew that her daughter could still feel, and she could still get scared and lonely like anyone else.

His lips thinned, but her husband remained calm, trying to keep her calm as well. "Rene told me he's done some missions with them." Noah titled his head to one side. "Sandra, they've been doing a lot of good, saving a lot of people. I admit I wasn't happy with the idea at first, but our Claire bear wanted to fight, and she's an adult now. Even Peter couldn't keep her from fighting."

Sandra smirked slightly, and she felt a little better despite her deep worries. She knew, well… they both knew that Claire would be okay, especially when she was with Peter.

"I still worry about her too," Noah said finally, squeezing her in another hug. Sandra settled against him with a sigh as he rubbed her shoulders up and down. "Like father, like daughter," she said languidly, and the two of them held each other before Rene was supposed to arrive, bringing old times back to them again.

"So where do you have to go?" she asked after a long silence. Noah pulled away from her and she met his confident, placid face – the hardened, trained expression that made him so good at his job, so she supposed.

"Coyote Sands. There's a high profile facility there where most of the worst experiments are taking place, some as bad as breeding specials with other specials," Noah said stonily with a lilt of disapproval in his tone, and he pulled out his gun to load it. Sandra almost started when he cocked it. "Once we liberate the government's most prized specials and release news of the truth of their experiments, then, they'll know the rebels mean business."

"Suddenly, this is a rebellion? Not too long ago you were catching these people and holding them just like the government is," Sandra said, crossing her arms.

"You and I both know things are different now, especially where Claire is concerned," Noah said, and she saw him hide a few more guns on his person while they both waited for his former partner to arrive.

"So what then? What happens after the government notices this big rebellion and that their prisoners are banding against them? Won't Claire be in even more danger?" Sandra asked.

Noah nodded once but didn't seem worried. "Angela doesn't seem to think so. There's something else going on with Pinehearst and the government that we don't know about yet, but we will very soon."

"Makes you regret not accepting their job offer, doesn't it?" she scoffed, but her husband shook his head.

"Angela's working on it. She has a source inside Pinehearst; someone that could do a better job than I could," Noah said, and they both heard the back porch door open, alerting them that Rene had probably slipped inside.

"Who?" Sandra asked, and Noah was already shifting toward Rene who was waiting for him in the kitchen doorway.

"Senator Nathan Petrelli," Noah said with a small smirk. "Who has now been promoted as Pinehearst's acting CEO as well."

"Acting CEO? Wait, Claire's birth father, that shady politician, is in charge of Pinehearst, the company responsible for lobbying the internment and experimentation of people like Claire? That doesn't make sense! Why would a father even do that?" Sandra's head hurt, but more than anything, she was worried and angry at all this obvious foul play.

"Well, the real CEO of Pinehearst, this mysterious founder, has never really surfaced. Some say he's crippled and has his people make all his decisions. His latest decision was to take on Nathan Petrelli, and now Angela believes we can get better inside information," Noah answered.

"That is if you can trust Senator Petrelli," Sandra snorted. Noah nodded and he and Rene were heading out the door.

"That's the big question, isn't it? Can we trust Senator Petrelli?" After another kiss, her husband and his partner were gone, retreating back into the shadows and on their way toward the desert. Sandra prayed for them, and she prayed for Claire.

She hoped to God they could trust Nathan Petrelli as well.

++

For many months, Gabriel Gray had dreamed a lot. Some dreams, he had dreamed them as Sylar, his hands dripping with blood as people screamed and begged in the background. Faces of those he had murdered haunted him, promising him a harsher future, an afterlife where he would pay for all of his sins.

Other times he was a boy again, watching as a nameless woman's skull was split open and her life bled onto the asphalt. Then he would look up to see a man who he thought was his father, only to see into a blurred face where only the sinister smile was clear.

Always, the dreams came with blood, and somewhere in between dreams, he fell into deep contemplation. If he ever got out of this facility, what would his life be like? Would he continue to murder and steal powers (to become so powerful he'd only be hunted more)? It was the task that was most natural to him, even though he felt so alone. Even though he would die someday (if he ever got his hands on the cheerleader) and then would he pay for his transgressions? Who would be so bold and powerful to kill him? This Dr. Crabtree had proven himself worthy enough.

Sometimes Sylar was even scared. Maybe it wasn't Sylar who was scared; maybe deep inside it was Gabriel, once a small whisper he could ignore, telling him to stop, to repent, to change his life and never kill again.

The voice was louder now, moral and insufferable, and sometimes it made sense and Sylar would listen. He had nothing better to do - he dreamed, he thought, and he reflected. He couldn't move his hands or legs, and they kept him constantly drugged. Some days he didn't even feel alive at all.

That was until Sylar saw him. It wasn't Dr. Crabtree, but rather the infant boy he and the nurse held before him. They were grinning like monsters, and they told him that this was his son - a child from his DNA, and he would never get to hold him. He would never name him, and he would never see his son's first steps.

Something inside him stirred - not the force of murder, not the disregard for human life. No. An energy was born, something that only a child of his own flesh would inspire. He wanted to see his son. He wanted to know the mother. He wanted to name him.

Sylar reached inside himself, tapping in all powers. They hovered on the tips of his psyche, and Gabriel began to cheer within him, coming to the surface, ready to bring him to normalcy again. As Gabriel he could be that father. He could destroy all their plans and save his son. He would bring them down - death for them would only be a matter of defense, a consequence of saving and protecting his son.

Until then, he waited and planned. He still couldn't move; he wouldn't deny the truth. Dr. Crabtree was anything but stupid. He was cautious and knew just how to imprison him. But Sylar wouldn't stay here long. He'd break out soon, and he would see his son.

He would prove the doctor wrong, and he would make him pay for this. Then, for the sake of his son, Dr. Crabtree's blood would be the last to paint his hands.

++

Elle woke stitched up and sore, healing from her pregnancy but still restrained and covered in soaked blankets. The orderlies (new ones, the other ones were dead) made sure to keep her soaked, dousing her with the hose regularly before the nurses would check on her to see how she was healing.

Then, when she couldn't dread the worst, she saw the head doctor again, and she heard him talking to the wet nurse. Her newborn son was nowhere in sight. They were both scrutinizing her, and the doctor seemed pleased.

"We'll let her heal up and when she's ready again, we'll use her for another," the doctor said. "This time, we'll use a different male"

"Someone stronger than Sylar? Do we have someone like that?" the nurse asked conversationally.

The doctor grinned, showing a mouth full of perfect teeth. "We just got a new shipment today. Someone called the German is very powerful. He has the power of magnetic manipulation. Electric manipulation and magnets, doesn't that sound interesting?" He laughed, and Elle continued to glare at him as he drew his eyes away. The wet nurse looked at her and Elle saw the fear, but not so long as she was next to the doctor.

"Doctor," said a voice beside him, and Elle watched as an orderly seemed disturbed as he approached him. Obviously, this doctor was the highest rank here. If Elle took him out, she figured she could walk all over the others, no problem.

"What is it? I'm very busy," he said perturbed.

"We have...um, a problem," said the orderly, and as Elle noticed this man's anxiety, things started to get interesting. "People have breached security. Um, it's the rebels."

"So? Take them down! Use Mika. He's been waiting for a fight," the doctor said, unconcerned. His nonchalance did not subdue his orderly.

"Mika won't be enough. It's _him_..." the orderly said, his voice turning stern at the last word.

The doctor became angry and he shook the orderly, who only squealed with fear. Elle continued to watch as the minion cowered in front of him. "Who the devil do you mean?"

"The man with glasses," he said, so low Elle could barely hear it, but time seemed to stop for her. She watched, her eyes widening as the doctor was finally showing some emotion after seeming so confident, so strong and assured. "And the Haitian."

"Oh, well, this does change things." The doctor cleared his throat and his touch became gentler toward his subordinate. "We must perform the red security protocol. First, I will inform Homeland Security." The man nodded, and soon he was gone, carrying out his orders. The doctor began to move, but in a quick second, he turned and met Elle's eyes.

She smirked at him, and his brow furrowed. Then, she laughed.

Noah Bennet was coming here, and for the first time in a long time - as long as she'd been here, Elle Bishop felt hope.

++

Sirens blared so loudly that they brought Sylar out of his usual drug-induced haze. He could hear footsteps running frantically, and among other things, he heard gunshots and screaming. Explosions rocked the facility, and he could smell fire and smoke in the air.

The place was burning. The people who kept him were dying or fleeing, and Sylar wondered if he would die here, helpless in the wake of fire, or if he would finally be free. He put his faith in his latter option, and when the power went out and the machine keeping him drugged went dark, he started to feel the effects slowly subsiding. He managed to move his eyes slightly with the lightest sway of his head, and through the window of the room holding him, he saw a phantom man float by. It was a man that he'd seen before. The man stopped, met his eyes, and Sylar was grinning inside, feeling the muscles slightly tug at his lips.

The shadow man looked at him with haunting white eyes against his dark skin, and then he slid away. Smoke covered his exit, and little by little, Sylar's powers were helping him gain movement and equilibrium of his body again.

"It's Sylar," said a voice, which Sylar recognized as Noah Bennet. He was somewhere near him, but he couldn't see where. He was still lying on the table, struggling with all his might to move. His thoughts were premature. Maybe he was dreaming and not escaping at all.

"I found Elle Bishop," said his shadowy friend, the Haitian, who may have been the reason Sylar's quickly returning powers were only being masked again. "She has given birth. She's alive, but barely."

Sylar seemed interested in this. Could it be...? Was Elle the mother of his son? Is that what they did to her and him? Of course! It all made sense. They were the most powerful specials here, and this nefarious government Dr. Crabtree felt they were the best of all prisoners for breeding stock.

"They were breeding specials here. I wonder if Elle wasn't the only one," Noah's voice said, and finally he came into view. He looked down at Sylar, same stony face as ever.

"There are two other women here. I freed them, but they did not give birth. I suppose they would have gotten to them in time," his partner said. Noah nodded.

"So Elle is the only one. What about the baby she gave birth to?"

"Gone. I haven't found it," the Haitian said. Sylar used all his might, trying to move a finger. Noah Bennet noticed.

"Well, I'll be damned," Noah said. He turned around and saw the dead machine. He turned to his partner. "Stay with him. He's waking up and getting his powers back. Where is Elle?"

"She is down the hall, two rooms down. I removed her restraints, but she isn't conscious yet."

"Okay, she can stay put for now. I heard the sprinklers go on, so this building should be fine from fire. We just have to wrap this up before the authorities get here. I'm going to look for any others you didn't free," he said, and he paused and touched his friend's shoulder encouragingly. "I'm going to look for the guy in charge. Hopefully I'll find a baby too."

Sylar silently cheered for Noah Bennet. Always a father... even if it were someone else's child. He supposed taking in Claire Bennet had changed him in that way. If anyone could save his son, it was the man with glasses.

When he left, Sylar started to gain consciousness, feeling his muscles moving, even in a mundane way with the Haitian's powers subduing him. When he had the capacity to speak again, he looked into the shadowy man's eyes and said, "Don't worry, I won't fight you. I'm not going to hurt anyone." He tried to sound sincere with his shaky, croaked voice.

The Haitian looked down at him impassively, but he cocked his head with mild curiosity. Sylar supposed the man was trying to decide on whether or not he could really believe him.

Sylar didn't really blame him for his doubts.


	3. The Ascendants

_ Part Three: The Ascendants  _

Noah Bennet turned the corner as he ran. He followed footsteps; they were quick yet soft, and he imagined them belonging to someone small, possibly not dangerous, but someone who would still give him information on this place regardless.

He quickened his pace, and he heard his target open a metal door, exiting the facility through the back. He started to catch up, his feet clanking on the metal stairs before they met dirt, and continued to run again to stop the woman who was frantically running ahead of him. As she ran, her pace started to slow, and suddenly she stopped when she realized she had nowhere else to go other than the wasteland of the desert. The winds picked up, and Noah could taste sand pebbles on his tongue.

"Stop! Please don't hurt me! I'm only a nurse," she said, with tears streaming down her face. Noah continued to aim his gun at her, but he started to lower his weapon cautiously as he realized her terror and distress. When she turned around, the baby she was cradling in her bosom started to whimper and cry.

"Please, I only worked for him. I did as I was told," she sobbed, and he watched as she pushed her dark hair out of her face, and clutched the baby tightly to her, protective of the gun. Noah put up a hand, and he started to lower the gun.

"That's not your baby," he said bluntly. "Give me the child and you can go."

She shook her head. "You don't understand. I can't go..." She pulled the baby away from her chest and started to wince, her sobs increasing. Noah's eyes widened when he saw blood on her side. She was holding on as long as she could for the baby's strength, and now the wet nurse was obviously losing her strength. "The mother, she's in there. Her name is Elle."

Delicately, Noah took the child from her and the woman started to fall to her knees. The baby started to wail, and Noah held him close after keeping his gun at his side, ready for the original threats to come back. He looked at the woman with pity as she fell to the ground, breathing heavily as blood poured from her wound. "The authorities should be hear soon. They can help you."

"It's too late for me," she said, and Noah wanted to disagree with her, at least comfort this woman even though she was probably right. "Please take care of the baby. Give him back to his mother."  
Noah Bennet pursed his lips, watching the woman as he walked backward toward the building, and then heading back to Rene. He surveyed the area again quickly before going back inside the doorway, shutting it behind him.

"I found him," Noah said as he met up with Rene, still watching Sylar who was still restrained to the table, but he was more conscious and alert, and by the look on Rene's face, it appeared as though Sylar had tried to engage in conversation. "I say we get out of here. I think everyone else has left. We bring Elle, and..." He turned to Sylar who looked at him anxiously. "I say we leave him here. He's better here than out there."

"Wait!" Sylar protested, and he pulled at his restraints as Rene's power still subdued them. "You can't just leave me here!"

Noah turned to him with his trademark Company Man smile. "Oh, I think we can."

Sylar seethed at him. "I won't be experimented on for another two years! Noah, listen to me. I'm going to change. You have to believe me. I won't hurt anyone anymore! I know... I know what it's like to be weak, helpless."

Noah paced around the room, bouncing the baby affectionately against him. "Why should I believe you, Sylar? You couldn't possibly ever change. Don't insult our intelligence. You're bargaining."

"Maybe it looks like that, but there's something you don't know," Sylar snarled at him. "That child you're holding is _mine_ , and I want him. I'm going to take care of him when I get out of here."  
Noah stopped and his smile disappeared. "This boy is yours?"

"Yes, they took my... it was one of their experiments," he answered.

"But this baby is Elle's as well. She's still alive." Noah turned to Rene with a cheeky smile. "Sounds like a case for the courts."

"Don't joke about this! I didn't want this either, but they forced me... they forced us to make this child," Sylar said, and before Noah could make another lewd retort, Sylar continued. "Our baby wasn't made in the traditional way, but he's still mine, and I'm going to take responsibility."

"No." Everyone turned around to the voice in the door. Elle staggered in, resting her body against the frame. "He's my child. I gave birth to him." She gave Sylar a dangerous glare. "I don't want you anywhere near him."

Sylar inhaled a deep breath, ready to fight, but suddenly the building shook. A helicopter was heard hovering above.

"We'll deal with this later," Noah said, and he quickly, he started to release Sylar's restraints. He shot the ex-prisoner a look of pure warning. "If you try anything and endanger that child by harming one of us, I will personally put a bullet right between your eyes, do you understand?"

"Got it," Sylar said quickly, throwing him a sneer. "Now shall we go? It would be a lot easier without him around." He said, referring to Rene. The accused man said nothing, and he turned to Elle to help her lean against him. He ignored Sylar, and offered to carry the wounded woman as they made their escape. Elle nodded, and Rene lifted her up and cradled her in his arms.

"Let us move," the Haitian said, and Noah shot Sylar another look as he followed the Haitian cautiously, as Bennet with the baby trailed them from behind.

"Where are we going," Sylar asked, and he followed Rene to a black van hidden behind an abandoned shack amongst the cluster of buildings at the compound. They ducked inside, and as the helicopter started to land, Rene hopped into the driver seat, turned on the vehicle and slammed on the gas, speeding out of there and leaving the Coyote Sands facility in the dust. A sandstorm fortuitously formed behind them, covering their stealthy escape.

As they blended into the darkness of the silent desert road, Noah turned to Sylar who was looking down at the baby against his chest, ignoring Elle's glare. Noah sighed, and he turned to Elle. "Are you well enough to hold him?"

She hesitated, surprised by his question, and she seemed frightened at first at the thought of holding her own son.

"I'll hold him," Sylar said, becoming impatient with Elle's indecision.

"No!" she exclaimed, and she flung her arms out toward Noah as he handed her the baby. Elle let out a half sob as the infant cradled against her chest, cooing at the feel of her warmth. The baby started to settle down in his mother's arms, and Noah looked away as Elle shifted uncomfortably in her seat, and he granted her the privacy to have time with her baby on her own. He couldn't imagine what she had went through. Elle had done some pretty bad things in the past, but she'd been his partner once, and he knew of the torture her father had put her through that made her the woman she was today. She was definitely unstable, and he almost feared the fact that she was the mother now, and if the child was safe in her care.

It would be easier if he knew more about such things, but he had a feeling two years of torture had changed her somewhat. He could already tell in her behavior. Something wasn't right about her. This Elle was broken and unsure, soft and wounded like a kitten.

Even Sylar was acting questionable. Just what did they do to them at that place?

Noah turned to Sylar and caught him staring at Elle and his child. There was an indescribable expression on the man's face, one Noah had never seen. He looked entranced by the mother of his child. He looked strangely happy and hopeful, and it was like he had rescued two different people rather than the infamous Sylar and Elle.

"You never answered my question," Sylar said in a hushed tone, and though he was speaking to Noah, he kept his eyes affixed on the mother and child.

Noah sighed and he loosened the tie around his neck. "Costa Verde, my place," he said through gritted teeth. He saw Rene catch his eye in the rearview mirror before turning his attention back to the road. "I don't know how I'm going to convince my wife of this, but with the government on your tails, I don't know where else to go."

"Won't they know to follow you? I'm sure that facility had cameras," Sylar said.

Noah shook his head. "We scrambled all technology before we set off the bombs. Everything was fried."

"But Dr. Crabtree saw you," Elle said as her little son sucked on her finger. "He'll tell the government. You'll put your family in danger."

Noah nodded. "Which is why I have to go back. They'll come after my family anyway. I need to be there to protect them. I also think we'll call in some backup. Rene will give Peter a call once we get there."

"I wouldn't underestimate Dr. Crabtree if I were you," Elle said. "He'll want to clean up his mess."

"Elle's right," Sylar said, and instantly it felt weird to Noah for having Sylar on his side. "Dr. Crabtree may have liked to experiment on people with abilities, but he had a few favorites. I know at least one special he spared and kept around him like a dog."

"I saw him too." Elle shuddered a little, and her son noticed her distress. She turned back to him with a big smile and made a few noises to make him laugh. The baby seemed to forget about her mother's recent fears.

"We'll be ready for him," Noah said confidently, and he turned to Sylar with a mysterious smirk. "I'm sure you want revenge as well."

Sylar scowled. "I told you I'm going to change." Elle scoffed lightly. "I want to make it right by our son," he said to her directly, and Noah watched Elle's mouth open and close in mild surprise. Yet, the surprise died when Sylar grinned maliciously and added, "Of course, I start after I take care of the good doctor."

Noah sighed. "I knew it."

Sylar turned to him with a dark frown. "You know nothing at all, Noah." Sylar's gaze broke from his tiny family and he stared out the window, his mind elsewhere, and Noah supposed that whatever he was thinking, he was probably drowning in memories of the last two years.

The van ride to Costa Verde was dead quiet the rest of the way back.

++

"I just got word from Rene," Peter said, and he took a seat next to Claire on the bed in the motel they checked into last night. That night they were hiding somewhere in southern Mississippi, which Peter had called the perfect state to hide in.

The TV blared, and Claire nodded as her attention was focused on the recent news. "Look at this," Claire said, and they both became entranced as the news anchor reported a breaking story.

"Domestic terrorism has hit a local facility in Coyote Sands, Arizona, which was undergoing research for persons with special abilities. This harmless, scientific facility was attacked sometime around 9 o'clock that night, by what authorities are calling a skilled, professional job, as all technology records were erased, and much of the building was damaged by smoke and fire. Police are finding a few casualties of some of the scientists that worked there, but all of the special persons detained there for their risky abilities have escaped.

"The White House immediately issued a statement saying they would deal with these terrorists accordingly, and they would find these dangerous individuals and detain them immediately."

Claire snorted. "Harmless facility my ass. They're really pumping up the fear mongering."

"You know how it is, Claire. A majority of Americans are still unaffected by abilities. Majority wins, and if they're scared, the minority loses."

"So what do you think? It was my dad, wasn't it?" Claire said, and before Peter could answer him, she watched his gaping stare at the TV.

The reporter continued, "Federal Authorities are convinced that these string of terrorist attacks are the work of the same group, a band of dangerous enhanced persons defying the government's comprehensive classification and study on these abilities. Authorities are linking this attack on Coyote Sands with the last large attack in Peoria, IL, where much evidence had been discovered and analyzed on the leading perpetrators of these attacks. Here is a sketch of one of the leaders of this rebellion, which is currently on the No-Fly and most wanted list by the FBI. If you see this woman, please call this number immediately and let the police know."

"Holy shit," Claire said, and Peter met her shocked eyes. "How did they get my picture? We've been so careful!"

"Someone must have saw you," he said, but Peter knew that it wasn't true. Somehow, Claire's image was leaked. Someone was baiting them, most likely trying to get to him more than Claire. Peter was quick to accuse Nathan, but he didn't want to believe it in his heart.

"Well, we can't do anything about it. We have to be more careful. We leave tomorrow. I'll give Rene a call back and I'm going to ask your dad on what he wants me to do." He met Claire's face, and he noticed that she looked distressed. He blinked and noticed the color of her hair, and he got an idea. "In the meantime, you need a disguise." He moved toward the nightstand and grabbed his wallet as he headed for the door. "Stay here, I'll be back."

"Where are you going?" she asked, looking anxiously.

"I'm going to the store. I'm going to grab a few things for our trip tomorrow. I'll be back." Peter gave Claire a pleading look, which told her she shouldn't even think about leaving. He slammed the door behind him, and Claire sank into the bed, frowning as the loneliness of their room started to seep inside her.

++

When Peter returned, Claire jumped up from the bed, anxious to see what he had in the bag. He pulled out a box of hair color, and he handed it to her with a crooked smile.  
"It's time to go incognito," he said, and Claire grinned.

"Dark auburn. This isn't really my style," Claire said.

"Which means it's perfect. Now, go do your hair. I have to make a phone call," Peter said, and Claire nodded, knowing that he had to call Rene back. She was almost scared at what her dad and the Haitian wanted, and she wondered if they were calling her home. If Claire was on the most wanted list, she was sure her dad wouldn't risk her coming home, and the hiding would only continue. She pouted at her reflection after she closed herself in the bathroom. She sighed. It wasn't fair. Why was she the most wanted? Someone was protecting Peter and selling her out, and by Peter's mood, he was angrier than she was about it. She was sure her dad was furious.

She opened the box and laid out the instructions by the sink. It sucked how small this hotel bathroom was, but she would make due of course. She took another deep breath and started mixing the colors.

In less than an hour, Claire Bennet would no longer be blonde.

++

"That attack in Arizona was your father," Peter said as Claire came out of the bathroom. She had already washed the color out of her hair, and she wrinkled her nose at the smell in the bathroom after she dried it. Peter saw it, and his somber face exploded into a quick grin.

"It looks good on you," he said, and Claire tilted her head, feeling that familiar flutter in her stomach every time Peter complimented her.

"It's different," she said with a snort. "I suppose I should borrow your clothes too, just to cover all bases on this disguise."

One of Peter's eyebrows rose slightly. "I suppose you could do that. When we leave we can go to that Harley store we passed by."

"Dark hair and leather...I'm sensing an ulterior motive," Claire said, unaware she was flirting so much. She caught Peter as he pursed his lips, and he started to look down awkwardly at the phone in his hand.

"Uh, Claire.... there's something I have to tell you," Peter said, and felt a twist in her stomach. "Rene's coming to get you, and then you're going into hiding and resuming the training I gave you with him. I won't be hiding with you anymore. Tomorrow afternoon he meets us." Peter cautiously met her hurt eyes. "I have to go help Noah and your family. They're sure they're being targeted, especially after someone they failed to stop at Coyote Sands. I have to protect them."

Claire blew out a breath. She lifted her chin. "Okay." It was only inevitable. Whenever she and Peter got too close, some force of nature or fate always tore them apart.

"Also... there's something else you should know. When Noah and Rene liberated that camp in Coyote Sands, they rescued Sylar and Elle," Peter said quickly, and Claire felt her mouth gape open.

"What?"

"They were experimented on, and they're in bad shape." Peter paused, and Claire could see him struggling with his words.

"Just spit it out, Peter!"

"Elle was forced to have Sylar's baby," Peter said awkwardly.

Claire paused. She didn't know whether to laugh or rage. "What the hell, Peter? What does that even have to... just...? WHAT?"

"They're staying with your dad. When they left the facility, Noah had no choice but to go back home in case someone went after your mom and brother. He had to take Sylar, Elle and the baby with him. Uh, your mom insisted Elle stay with the baby, considering her state." Claire's eyes bulged. "Sylar refuses to leave Elle and the baby. He insists that he's changed, but Noah is pretty much sleeping with one eye open."

Claire began to wave her arms and pace the room erratically. "Are you telling me that Elle and Sylar are staying at my house? With my family?" she roared, and Peter winced from the tone of her voice.

"That's what I'm saying. This is why Noah needs my help. Not only does he need protection from the government coming for him, but he's also not sure about Sylar," Peter answered.

"Well, duh! What is he thinking?" Claire clenched her fists, and she stormed throughout their room, and she kicked the trash can in the corner. Peter rushed over to her, trying to calm her down.

"Hey! Settle down! I know you're mad, but we don't need the attention," he said, stroking her back as he pulled her into his arms. His touch seemed to soothe her, and reluctantly Claire pulled away, and she felt tears brimming in her eyes.

"I know," she said, and she sighed and began walking to the beds. She settled down in the bed that Peter claimed, but he didn't stop her. She fell back onto the bed and stared at the ceiling as he followed her lead, and he fell back next to her. He took her hand into his.

"I don't have a good feeling about this," Claire said. Peter squeezed her hand, and she wished that he wasn't leaving her tomorrow. Although, truthfully she was glad that he was leaving to protect her family.

"I don't either, but we can do something about it," Peter said. Claire turned her head and looked at him, and he move to his side, meeting her eyes.

"Peter, I think I need to tell you something before you leave tomorrow." She shifted her body, turning on her side. He turned to face her, and they stared at each other in silence for a moment before she continued. "You remember the first time we met? When you saved me?"

He crinkled his brow a little and laughed. "Yeah, how could I forget?"

"I fell in love with you then," she said, soft as a whisper. He stared at her hard, his mouth slightly open with surprise. "I know, I know, it's weird now, and I'm sorry."

"It's okay."

"No, it's not. I never stopped loving you. I'm glad you're my family. It's better this way, but sometimes..." She closed her eyes and she felt a tear streak down her cheek. "Sometimes I wonder..."

"Yeah..." he said in a heavy breath. She met his eyes again, and she smiled despite the awkwardness in the room, the tension that she created.

"Let me stay next to you tonight," Claire asked softly, her tone almost pleading. Peter froze, watching her and searching her face for her true intentions. Truthfully, she just wanted to be held tonight, to feel safe from the monsters already looming around her life – and growing.

"Okay," he said sternly, and Claire knew it was a warning that she shouldn't try anything. "No more flirting. It's getting weird."

She chuckled. "Okay. Sorry."

He rewarded her with a crooked smile, and she watched his body move and twist so he could shut the light off and then settle back down with her. She felt him shift closer, and soon she was resting her head against his chest. She closed her eyes and inhaled his scent, knowing this was the once and only privilege she'd ever get to hold Peter like this.

"You don't suppose when we go to that Harley shop tomorrow we can stop at that gun store next door?" Claire asked offhandedly.

"Why do you need a gun? I'm the one who's going to see Sylar," Peter said, and Claire laughed.  
"Of course, yes, I definitely meant getting a gun for _you_ ," Claire said dryly, and Peter chuckled, hugging her close again.

"Goodnight, Claire," Peter said, ending the conversation from continuing any further. Claire was fine with that, since she didn't want him to change his mind and throw her out of is bed that night.

"'Night, Peter," she said against his warm chest. She felt him kiss the top of her head, and Claire released a lazy sigh.

Then, the two of them drifted into sleep, nestled in each other's arms.

++

It was an odd predicament. Noah had to pinch himself a few times before he truly believed what was happening, and what he was seeing with his own eyes.

He supposed being tortured and experimented on really could change people.

Of course, like his wife, he wasn't so quick to accept Sylar into his home; however, Elle was a different story. Though her behavior and sanity was as questionable as Sylar's, she had been his partner at one time and now she was a mother, and that was enough for Sandra to accept her. Mostly, his wife didn't want the mother and child to be separated by the government. He could understand that as well.

As for Sylar, she would only accept him because she knew the danger he had put them in, and with a quick phone call, she shipped Lyle off to his aunt while she stayed with Noah (against his wishes for he wanted her to go to her sister's as well) and she took interest in helping Elle with the baby. More than anything, Noah knew Sandra stayed so one of them could be awake long enough to watch Sylar and take turns. The thought made him smile. His wife was often craftier than people gave her credit for.

Sylar must have picked up on their little game, and though he insisted he wasn't going to hurt them, he merely rolled his eyes at them both and left, saving his energy to appeal to the mother of his child that he was worthy to be a part of his son's life.

Noah left them be, and he watched Sylar disappear out the back door where Elle and their son was, looking up at a clear sky sprinkled with stars.

"There you are," he said lightly, but she turned around to scowl at him before turning her attention back to the sky. Sylar ignored her animosity and chose to sat beside her. He looked down at their son sleeping soundly in her arms, and Sylar felt a sense of longing, yet he was happy and hopeful, two feelings he hadn't ever felt without darkness following him.

"You killed my father, right after you escaped Mohinder's lab last year. Doctor Crabtree told me about it. You killed my father right before the government agents took you away," Elle said tersely. "I'm just not going to forgive you for that."

"Nor should you, like I will never forgive you for helping the Company turn me into a monster," Sylar responded, and she tuned to glare at him, and he grinned at her. She knew what he was talking about.

"Never in a million years would I think about having a kid with you," she said with a heavy sigh, but her voice trailed off. "But we were both used. I at least understand you there."

"Elle, I'm not asking you to like me or marry me. I know that would never happen," Sylar said.   
"Good," she said, and she turned around and zapped him with a quick charge. Sylar jumped, his anger rising as she pointed her finger at him, daring him to act. He scowled at her and relaxed his body, resisting the temptation.

"You wanted to hurt me there, didn't you?" she said with a smug laugh. "I really wonder if you can change."

He was about to say something, but the baby's movement swayed his attention. Both he and Elle looked down, and his son was waking up, turning his sleepy eyes to them both. He yawned awkwardly and moved his hand, reaching out in Sylar's direction. Hesitantly, Sylar moved his hand toward his son's, and he let the infant take a small grip around his index finger.

Sylar laughed, smiling widely as Elle watched him with both shock and caution.

"He's strong already," Sylar said. "I already know he's going to be special."

"He _is_ special," Elle snapped at him. "He doesn't even need powers for that."

Sylar paused, his mouth left open gaping. He was remembering something, a memory both faded and numb. His mother's voice rang in his ears, not his real mother – the other one.

"Yes, of course. Well?" He turned to Elle and wiggled his finger, still in his son's grasp. "What are we naming him?"

"You don't get to make that decision," Elle said selfishly, and Sylar tilted his head, throwing her a reproachful look.

"I think I have a say. He's a part of me too. Are we going to keep having this argument?"

"You didn't give birth to him! Not in that place. All they did to you was strap you to a table and drug you. You don't know what they did to me!" Elle fumed at him, and Sylar was trying hard to keep his calm. His son let go of his finger as he was noticing his mother's distress. He started to whimper.

"You have no idea what they really did to me. They didn't just strap me to a table." Sylar tried to keep his breathing even, controlled. "I'm sorry for what they did to you, that you had to have our son alone and against your will, but there's no use blaming me for those things now. I'm telling you I want to help you. I want to be a part of his life."

"I don't want you to!" She stood up quickly, and Sylar tried to grab her, but she turned around and a threatening blue charge rolled in her palm. "Don't."

"Elle, please, listen. You and I both have parental issues. Our childhoods weren't exactly normal nor perfect!" he screamed, and she stood there long enough to listen; only she looked away from him, glaring at the grass. "Let's not let our son go through that. He will, if he doesn't have a father."

"I'll find him a new father!" she said.

"Listen to yourself!" he screamed.

"I can't believe you! Listen to you! Are you really Sylar?" Before he could react, she'd shot a bolt of lightning at him, and it charged through his body like a wildfire. He groaned in pain, doubling over as Elle looked at him, quickly regretful of what she did, and when she wanted to retreat, Noah Bennet came behind them with a hot mug of tea in his hand. He grinned at them both.   
Sylar struggled to keep his body upright, and he glared at Elle and then Noah.

"I see the happy couple is getting along nicely," Noah said.

Elle threw him a nasty look. "Shut up, Bennet."

"Now, now, is that anyway to talk to your host? Listen, stop using your powers or the neighbors are going to call the government," he said warningly, and Elle looked away sheepishly, knowing she did bad.

"Now I'm no lawyer or anything, but I hate to side with Sylar here," he said, cringing. His expression was full of distaste, but he took a sip of his hot drink and the animosity faded. "This is not the time for disputes, especially for you two. The government is after you, and if your son is special, then he's in more danger than you are. He needs powerful people to protect him." He gave both Sylar and Elle a hard look.

Elle sighed heavily. "I don't like this! I didn't ask for this!"

"Yeah, well, neither did I, blondie," Sylar said dryly, his voice still shaky as he wobbled with pain. He finally made it to his feet, and he started walking toward her. He held out his somewhat charred hand as a peace offering. "Truce? Now that you've fried my ass and I didn't rip open your skull, which should stand for something."

Elle looked down at his outstretched hand with disdain. She shifted the baby against her and slowly reached out to agree to his truce. As their hands touched, the baby moved, and he clapped his hands together in a jubilant gesture, leaving both of his parents speechless for a minute. Suddenly, an errant blue current streamed from Elle's hand and followed into Sylar's. He watched it with awe, waiting for the inevitable charge to rock his nerves. Nothing happened, and the blue charge disappeared. He pulled his hand away, looked at it, and gasped when the charge started buzzing at his fingertips.

He laughed. Sylar had Elle's power, and they both looked at each other in pure shock, while their baby squealed in jubilation.

"Well, would you look at that? Sylar obtained another power and he didn't have to kill anyone," Noah remarked, and he took another Zen-like sip of his hot mug of tea and then ducked back into the house.

++

The Bennet family and their guests held their breaths as a week went by, but no one came for revenge. The government hadn't shown up yet, and Noah was careful, with Sylar's help, to look for bugs and potential stake-outs. The media made no report on them, even though it broke Sandra and Noah's heart to see their daughter on the list of America's most wanted, even though everyone, including Sylar and Elle, knew in their hearts she didn't deserve it.

Noah did managed to talk to her briefly, but he knew that from this point on, she had to stay off the grid, which meant fewer calls – even on a prepaid phone. He heard from her when Peter and Rene met up in a small town in Missouri, and Claire had bragged (mostly to cover her tears) that she had changed her appearance to look like a new person, even if it meant dying her hair, thickening her makeup, and wearing outrageous clothing she'd never think to wear before.

"I'm wearing leather, Dad," she said with a light-hearted laugh, a tone he had missed in her voice. "I know this is totally TMI, but leather sticks to your skin, all of your skin."

Noah told her he missed her, he loved her, and he hoped to see her soon.

"Dad, when can I come home? I really miss you," she said tiredly. "I wish...I wish nobody ever knew about us. I used to think things would be better if everyone knew, that I wouldn't have to hide any more, but now I know... I was wrong."

"I know sweetheart. I'm sorry," was all he said to her question. The truth was Noah Bennet didn't know if his daughter could ever come home.

"Rene will take care of you now, and when he thinks it's safe, you can call me on a protected line. Just lay low for now," he said, and he heard her sniffled and hold back her sobs on the other end.

"I will. You stay safe. I know you will be if Peter is coming for you." Noah heard her laugh through her sobs. "Even Elle might protect you. Hell hath no fury like a sociopath who just gave birth."

Noah chuckled, and reluctantly, after a few more "I love yous" and goodbyes, he let his daughter go.


	4. Inheritance and Mercy

_ Part Four: Inheritance and Mercy _

 

When the storm came through Costa Verde, the air became muggy, first turning cold before turning blazing hot again. Thunder grumbled through the sky for a couple nights, and lightening illuminated the dusky dark as the wind screamed through the air.

The news warned for heavy storms, warning people to stay away from the beaches.

The house seemed crowded because of the weather, and Sylar admitted to himself he felt slightly trapped. Though, it wasn't as bad as Coyote Sands. Nothing would ever be as bad as that.

Luckily in that week, Elle was learning not to snap at him so much. She had destroyed some of the Bennets' property because of her anger, but he noticed that the moment she lost it, the baby would start crying and she'd feel bad. She'd even apologized to him once, when she had accidentally singed some of his hair. To Sylar's dismay, Noah had laughed at it.

Thoughts of killing Noah Bennet were oddly enough, subsiding. Truthfully, Sylar didn't think about it so much anymore. Noah Bennet had saved his life, and even though the man had rightfully almost left him to rot there, he had spared him, and Sylar thought that was something.

He'd like to thank whatever angel or power for giving Noah Bennet a heart that day.

Of course, none of this would be possible without his son's existence, for him or Elle. Noah would have probably left them both at the side of the road somewhere if Elle didn't have his baby.

They still couldn't agree on his name though. Elle had wanted Robert, and Sylar was adamantly against it. He actually started to feel bad about killing Bob Bishop, even though the man was a scoundrel. Sylar knew about the things he'd done to his own daughter, and he didn't know why she didn't hate him as much as she probably should. Elle didn't exactly produce emotions like everyone else, which was something to say about children who were sheltered and manipulated.

Maybe that had made the Coyote Sands experiments harder for her. The first time it was her father who had done them, so maybe in her brain they were acceptable.

But no one ever made her have a baby, or had plans to continue using her as breeding stock. The one time Elle mentioned it, Sylar visibly watched her shudder. He almost wanted to hold her, but it seemed untimely.

That and he didn't want to get fried. It was all baby steps with Elle. It amazed him that she was starting to talk to him without insults and threats, which Sylar resolved was some considerable progress.

The Bennets were still tense around them. Sylar figured Noah Bennet would never trust him, and Sandra would always see him as the monster who wanted to kill her daughter. Not that he could really hurt her. (They didn't know their own daughter at all, he scoffed.)

He didn't want to admit his own comfort zone had been expanding. He'd always been a loner, and nobody had accepted him enough for it to matter. Nobody had been worthy enough because he really felt all was inferior to him. Dr. Crabtree had changed that feeling. He had used him like a tool, and he did it without having powers at all.

Sylar had vowed that he would be the last man he would kill before truly giving it up, and becoming a father; however, he didn't think he'd get the opportunity so quickly.

For all the time they had waited for the doctor's retaliation, when they were settling down one peaceful night arguing politics over pot-roast, the small glimmer of serenity that he and Elle had found had been destroyed when the fire alarm went off and a small explosive rocked the house.

Everyone but Elle had ducked for cover, and she rushed to the baby and drew it close to her chest. Automatically, she huddled near Sylar, who protectively shielded his body around mother and son as Noah snatched a gun that was taped under their dinner table. He looked to Sylar, and then Sylar looked to Elle, who nodded at him. She signaled she'd be okay without him, and Noah and Sylar started to creep toward the exit, with Sandra, Elle and the baby waiting in anticipation for the signal that they were safe.

They didn't even know where the enemy was. He could be anywhere around the house, and he could've had help. Adrenaline rose, and Sylar kept on his guard. He'd have to use powers that he hadn't used in two years. He was confident, but now that he was fighting for him, Elle and his baby, fighting against an enemy felt differently. He had more than his own life to look out for now.

He saw Noah pause, and Sylar used his enhanced hearing when he picked up footsteps outside. Piece of cake, he thought, and he noticed two sets of footsteps. He put up two fingers to Noah, and then he pointed the direction they were coming. Noah nodded, and they relaxed a little, feeling they had the advantage. Noah and the others crouched and started for the back door. Enemies were coming right toward them. Noah charged first, and the door flew open.

Before Sylar could protect him, a large burly man with a ginger beard punched open the door, and he grabbed Noah by the cuff of his shirt after he got off a shot, nicking the man in the shoulder.   
Noah struggled as the man tried to lift Noah off the ground. He tried to aim his gun, but the man grabbed his hand and growled. Sylar prepared to use his TK, but he heard footsteps from the front door. The other set of footsteps were coming up from the front.

And Sylar knew exactly who it was. "Crabtree," he seethed. Hatred and vengeance took over his mind, and he turned around, leaving Noah to his own vices. He thought he could take care of himself, but when Crabtree charged in with a confident smile, Sylar knew that not even his TK could affect him. He was happy and smug about something else.

Sylar held him against the wall, and he heard Sandra's small scream as she and Elle hid behind the kitchen counter with the baby. The fire that had erupted in the living room was dying out in in steady embers. He paid them no mind as long as they didn't get worse, and he focused on Crabtree. He wanted to look inside him, see how he worked. Sylar wanted to know just why he thought he could win.

"I could kill you. Snap your neck just like that," Sylar threatened.

"An act of mercy," Crabtree said with a hardened smirk. "Detention has made you soft, mighty one."

"Then I'll cripple you, and you'll suffer as an invalid," Sylar said. It was not as fun as torturing him like he wanted to, to string him up by his balls and light fires under his bald head.

"Still, it would solve nothing, not when I will already win." Crabtree looked beyond him, and Sylar followed his gaze. "You remember my friend Mika. He is special, like you." Crabtree smacked his lips approvingly. "I bet you'll want his power after you see what he can do."

Sylar watched. Noah Bennet was suddenly still, no longer struggling. He saw Noah's wife watching him, and she put a hand to her lips in shock.

The big burly man fell backwards, and suddenly Noah's body was on his feet. But it wasn't Noah. He gave Sylar a happy, dangerous grin and then turned his attention to Sandra, who screamed. She tried to move away, but he grabbed her arm.

"Delightful. Mika has the power to remove a person's consciousness and take over their body. I call it Soul Displacement. He can even put a person's consciousness in another body! Isn't that fascinating! It's more fun than your powers... so vulgar and artless. I knew I just had to have him for myself," the doctor told him. "I admit he is my favorite."

"What have you done?" Sylar raged at him. Noah Bennet may have been his enemy before, but he didn't deserve this. He didn't deserve some degenerate to take over his body and harm his wife. Mika used Noah's body, moving his hand so that it wrapped a hand around Sandra's neck.

"Elle! Do something!" Sylar turned his other hand and shot TK at Mika, who was unusually strong in Noah's body. He barely staggered toward the force, still grabbing onto Sandra's neck for dear life. If Sylar used any more energy, he was afraid he'd hurt Sandra by snapping her neck in the process. So he struggled (he'd never been this weak before) by holding Dr. Crabtree against the wall in the front and Mika in the back. One would have to give way, and he'd never let that doctor get his hands on him again.

But he couldn't leave Noah.

Their son wailed, and Elle squealed.

"Elle, you can do it," Sylar said.

"I can't. I don't want to hurt Noah... I could kill him," she said, her voice quivering. "I can't control my range." She gave Sylar a pleading look.

"He'll be okay," Sylar said.

"Hrmm, I don't know about that. If she shocks Mika while Noah Bennet's consciousness is displaced he might become lost forever. Even brain-dead."

Elle gasped, and Sylar wondered if Crabtree may be lying. Regardless, Elle wasn't going to use her powers now. He saw as Elle crouched further against the kitchen cabinet, holding their son to her chest.

"What is your choice, Sylar? Will you kill me in time to save your friend?" mocked Crabtree, and Sylar whipped around and glared. He didn't give him the chance to gloat. He snapped a finger, and the doctor's neck was broken. It was a shame, Sylar thought, that he couldn't have drawn out his death like he deserved.

Behind him, Mika (in Noah's body) roared with anger. Sylar pushed him against the kitchen counter with his TK on reflex, and he didn't even think of the state of Sandra. The second he controlled Noah's possessed body was the second Mika paid him in turn for killing Dr. Crabtree. Sandra's neck snapped with a much softer sound, and she tumbled to the floor, lifeless.

Elle began to sob. She stopped when Mika looked down at her, his fists clenched at his sides, and he struggled to break free of Sylar's powers to go after her and his son.

Never. Sylar would never allow that to happen. No one was going to hurt his son. No one. He was the reason that he was able to start life anew. Noah gave him purpose, and he would never let such a worthless worm ever get the chance to lay a hand on either of them.

In that moment, he forgot that Noah was still somewhere inside his own body, so Sylar began flinging him around the kitchen. He crashed through glass, clawing and spitting, and trying to regain control. Finally, Sylar felt it. The desire to see, to reach inside him and yank his powers out.

He wanted those powers. He wanted a taste. After this he'd stop, cold turkey, but this was his reward. He'd take it...claw it from his brain if he had to, and then his vengeance would be complete, as dull as it was.

Sylar flung Noah's body against the hot stove, and he turned on the burner beside his face as his arms flailed.

In Noah's body, Mika spoke as Sylar's power caged him tightly. "You would kill your friend? Let us talk and I'll spare his life."

Sylar tilted his head, and he narrowed his eyes. "You think I'd ever believe you? I just killed your lover...ah, I was right. I killed him before your eyes and you want revenge." Sylar paused with a sinister laugh. "You want my body, and in my body you can have unimaginable power. Oh, yes, I know how you think. You and I are a lot alike." Sylar's smirk turned into a deadly frown. Mika looked scared, which was odd in Noah's body because the man had hardly ever looked scared, except for the times when Claire was in danger.

But this fear was different because it was not truly Noah's.

"I will never give you this body back. We are at a stalemate," Mika said.

Sylar stared at him, and he glanced at the lifeless body of Sandra on the floor. He said a silent apology to Noah, hoping that this is what he'd want him to do. He also made a promise, in all his redemption; he would someday make it up to Claire as well.

"No, we're not," Sylar said, and the burners of the stove ignited.

Elle stood up and ran toward him. "What are you doing? We can still save him!" Their son cried from the screaming and his mother's distress. Noah Bennet's body began to burn, and he reached his hand out, still Mika looking for another body to escape to.

"Do you really think we can?" Sylar turned to her sadly. "If you have an idea to save him, then you try!"

The burners turned off, and Mika was still alive, but Noah's body was badly burned. He tried to shuffle away, but Sylar held up his hand, using very little power to detain him.

Elle looked at him helplessly. She turned her head away, and Sylar felt her forehead on his arm. "Just do it quickly, okay? Noah's still inside him. He can feel it too."

Sylar paused, not thinking about that. She was right, of course, and he nodded.

He looked into Mika's eyes, hoping that Noah was somewhere still in there. "Forgive me, Noah."  
It was the third neck to be broken that night.

The moment Noah Bennet died Peter Petrelli had crashed through the door. He met Elle and Sylar's distressed faces, and he only needed to glance around to see the carnage.

He blew out a heavy sigh. "What have you done, Sylar?"

For the first time in as long as he could remember, Sylar felt deep remorse.

++

Sylar looked at his hand, but he didn't say much. Elle had soothed the baby, and she explained what happened to Peter as they cleaned up the house.

"I called the Aunt. She and Lyle are driving down here in the morning. We make an anonymous tip to the cops and leave the bodies, and we'll hide until the coast is clear. The aunt says she'll take care of the house," Peter said.

"Wait, I want to keep the house," Sylar insisted, and Peter shook his head.

"This isn't the time for that, Sylar," Peter scolded him, and Sylar charged forward.

"Noah Bennet saved my life; it's the least I can do to take care of his place." Sylar looked away from Peter's gaze, for he was getting annoyed by the way the man was glowering at him since he got there, even though he said he understood Sylar and Elle had no choice. "I already regret what I did, so say what you're going to say, Boy Scout."

"Okay, one, you can stop with the attitude," Peter said, getting in his face. Sylar stood motionless with a scowl. "And two, I really don't care what happens to this house as long as Claire is safe, and Noah and Sandra are given a proper memorial. Also, more than anything, you should be concerned about your baby. If this doctor found you, than more agents are probably on their way."

"He's right," Elle said. "As much as I want to stay here for the Bennets' sakes, I don't care where go, as long little Noah is safe."

Sylar and Peter both turned to her with a curious look. Sylar was the first to inquire. "Little Noah?" He looked at his son.

Elle lifted her chin confidently. "Yeah, that's his name." Elle sniffed. "It's the least I can do for Noah after he got me out of that hell-hole Coyote Sands."

Sylar nodded, and he gave her a small smile. The two of them shared an affectionate pause. "It's fine. It's a good name."

"Okay, tender moment is over," Peter said, and they all heard sirens nearing. "We have to go. I have a brown Chevy two blocks over."

They already headed to the door when Sylar stopped and looked back into the house. "What about the dog?"

"Let's go, Sylar!" Peter said, and he pushed them forward as Elle was already running through the neighbor's lawn.

+

"This place stinks," Elle complained, and the three of them walked into a double-bed motel room, just outside of Nevada. They had driven most of the night and morning, and finally, Peter found them a place to stop and rest. He seemed to know the owner of the place, which indicated they would be safe.

"Chuck is like us. He's hiding from the government too; though, I doubt they'd be interested in his powers," Peter said with a shrug.

"What's his power?" Sylar asked, and Peter turned to glare at him. Sylar's lips pursed into a thin line. "I promise I won't kill him," he said mockingly, and Peter's glare remained intact.

"It's really nothing. He can talk to birds or something like that," Peter said, dropping his backpack on one of the beds.

Elle laughed. "Really? A bird whisperer?" She turned to Sylar with a cheeky grin. "Go get it, boy." Sylar rolled his eyes, but the two seemed in good spirits (despite the recent past carnage) as their baby laughed and cooed while the mother rocked him.

Peter ignored them, digging into his backpack full of prepaid phones. "This is the one, I think." He turned to the parents who watched him curiously. Peter was the only one with the plan at the moment. "Sandra's sister is going to call me, but I'm going to need to destroy it once the call goes through."

Sylar's brow knitted together. "What for?"

"I don't entirely trust her. She's scared, and that's indication she could turn us in. Her niece is already on the most wanted list and someone with abilities kills her sister? I would understand if she turns on us through grief." Peter paused and he seemed to wear a permanent frown since they left the Bennet house in Costa Verde. Sandra and Noah's death was affecting him too, and he'd have to do the unsavory duty of informing Claire, but he couldn't do that now.

He was expecting another call. He fished out another phone from his bag, and he set it on the table next to the small sofa. He met Sylar and Elle's eyes and looked at the beds. "You two get some sleep. I'll take this couch."

"You can rest too, you know. We're not going to hurt you, not after all you've done," Sylar said, and Peter scrutinized him, but he didn't seem any tenser than usual.

"I know," he said, which was more of an offering of trust, one that Sylar didn't outright expect.   
"I'm waiting for a call, and then I'll turn in. You guys go on ahead. I suspect this call will come very soon."

When it did, Peter left the hotel room to stand on the porch and talk. He knew Sylar was listening with his super-hearing anyway, but he didn't want to disturb Elle and the baby. He spoke to his mother on the phone for almost a half hour, and when she hung up, he knew they'd be expecting her presence. Beyond the deaths of the Bennets, Angela had some news for Peter, and now that he was helping Sylar and Elle, she felt it was important she come there and tell them in person.

Soon, he had to call Claire. He didn't know just exactly how to tell her that her father and mother were dead, and who had really killed them. He wondered if she'd understand.

++

 

Peter had dozed off, and he woke with a start, as if he felt spiders crawling all over him. Even worse, Elle and the child were resting in their beds, but Sylar's was empty.

He found him leaning against the rickety balcony of their second floor hotel room, and he gazed across the parking lot, waiting and thinking. Peter came out, and he rested against the door frame and stared in the same direction as Sylar's gaze.

"There's something you should know, Peter," Sylar said, and Peter feared the worse. Sylar was full of surprises lately. A killer, a prisoner, a father and a killer with mercy. Now, he claimed he was a person of redemption.

Peter shoved his hands into the pockets of his dark jeans. He met Sylar's face without expression. "Go on."

"That man's power, the one that controlled Noah?" Sylar paused but continued when Peter nodded. "I have it."

Peter narrowed his eyes. "How?" There were no skull extractions, not his usual M.O. to take powers.

"I have Elle's powers too. It happened before we were attacked. I think... I think my son is an empath like you, latent of course. I was only able to take her power with when he touched me, but I can do it now. I can take powers without killing people. But the desire to kill... it's still there. It only lessens when I think of my son," he said.

"And the power you took from Noah's killer?" Peter asked, coming toward him.

"Crabtree called it Soul Displacement." Sylar scrunched his brow and stared at Peter with a small smile. "Now, I suppose, you have that power too."

Peter frowned. Sylar was probably right; however, he didn't jump at the chance to use that power any time soon. The memory of that power bringing about Noah's death definitely left an ache in his heart.

+

"She's here," Peter said, peeking out of the curtain and letting it fall away as he move toward the door.

The baby was asleep, yet still in Elle's arms like he was glued there. Sylar stood beside her, and he nodded at Peter as they waited for her to come to the door. Peter stared at Sylar for a second, finding it oddly natural of him paired with Elle. They were the oddest parents he'd ever known, and deep down, he prayed for their son's future.

With two light knocks, Peter cracked the door open. Angela Petrelli and another henchman he did not recognize followed dutifully behind her.

"This is Roman," she said in low yet terse tone. "You don't need to concern yourself with him. He doesn't work for Pinehearst. He works for me."

Peter didn't know whether or not to believe his mother, but since she had spoken of it, he supposed the knowledge was somewhat important.

"Noah Bennet's dead. Please tell me you have a plan," Peter said, his brow knitted together. "He was a strong arm of the resistance, and his death will no doubt hinder it."

"I'm sorry about Noah," she said in a soft voice, which made Peter believe she did actually have sympathy for his death, and that maybe Noah Bennet was more important to her than she had led on. The two of them definitely had a history together. He watched as Angela turned to Sylar and Elle and lifted her chin. He saw no fear when she looked at Sylar. "You have another strong arm of the resistance to take his place. I'm sorry to be so crass, but time is of the essence."

Sylar stepped forward, angry. "What makes you think I want to be a part of this rebellion? After what they did to me, there's no way I want to be a target again. Not now when I have a son to raise."

"Yes," Angela said dryly with a fake smile. "Congratulations." She paused, and she and Sylar seemed to get in a staring match. Elle frowned, rocking the baby encouragingly. "If you're so adamant about protecting your son, you would be better to rebel as much as you can, Sylar."

"We can hide him and the baby. They don't have to fight," Peter said. He really didn't want to do it just for Noah Jr.'s sake. He didn't want to work with Sylar, and he didn't want Claire to cross paths with him at all.

Angela seemed to understand her son's concern. She sighed, and she began removing her gloves. "I suppose it's only fair that you would rather not work with Sylar, but this next bit of news may change your mind." Her lips pursed with some semblance of a wicked smile. "I'm sorry to have to tell you this, Sylar... and Peter, but you are brothers."

"What?" Peter yelled immediately, but Sylar seemed shocked and perplexed.

"How can that be?" Sylar blew out a breath, becoming cautious as she began gliding toward him. She outstretched her hand and cupped his cheek as he froze.

"I'm sorry, my dear. This is a terrible time to tell you, but it's true...I gave you up for adoption to the Grays. I was having trouble with my husband at the time...and I was confused, and I was afraid of your power. I hoped to tell you some day, and when we were trying to recruit you for the Company, things got out of control and..."

"Recruit! Out of control?" Sylar raged at her. When he noticed his son whimper in his mother's arms, Elle moved away and Sylar tried to level his temper. His voice came out in a hushed hiss. "Your Company made me into a monster. You encouraged me to become what I am and tap into the darkest source of my power, and all you have to say is 'hi, I'm your mother and I'm sorry?'"

"Yes," Angela said simply, controlled. She tilted her head. "I know you will never forgive me, but I felt it time to tell you."

"Why? Because you want me to join my brother, if he is my brother, to fight against the government?" he accused.

Angela sighed heavily. "If you'll let me explain, you'll see that there is more to all of this. Your parentage is only a microcosm to the things to come," she said harshly. She stared sternly at both her sons. "Very soon the government won't be hunting specials anymore..." Everyone gaped as she paused. "They won't need to. Back when I ran the Company we developed a synthetic formula to give people abilities. You brother, Nathan, is one of those test subjects. The experiments got out of control, and we discontinued the program. The formula was split up and never brought up again. Well, an unknown source has unearthed the formula after acquiring both parts. The formula is still incomplete in its beginning stages, but very soon they will perfect it. Then, Pinehearst will sell it on the open market. Everyone will be able to have abilities and special people..." She laughed mockingly. "They won't be special anymore."

"So? What does this have to do with us being brothers?"

"Nothing really. Just that I..." Suddenly, her harsh tone faded, and she grabbed Peter's arm. She looked into his eyes, and Peter saw the wetness of brimming tears in her eyes. "Someone has put a hit on me. I won't survive long."

Peter grabbed her desperately. "We'll hide you. I won't let that happen, mom. I won't!"

"It's too late," she said in defeat, and she drew away from him and started smoothing out her clothes. She lifted her chin again, dignified, but Peter could see her shaking. "I made a deal with them. My life for yours." She turned to Sylar. "For you both. You'll continue to fight them, of course."

"Why should we fight them now?" Elle asked, coming out of the shadows yet still listening in on the conversation. She shrugged. "They won't be hunting us. We won't have to run anymore."

"You're so naive," Angela said, shaking her head. "You're still criminals to the government. They'll want you for your past actions, to control you. More than that, you must destroy Pinehearst. There was a reason we halted those experiments. That formula is not meant for regular people. It'll change the whole world for the worst."

"So... you want use to fight a new fight. We're no longer fighting for our freedom," Peter said.

Angela turned to Noah Jr. who was watching her intently. She smiled, and she answered him softly. "No, but you'll be fighting for future generations. If too many people have powers, they'll get out of control. They'll destroy this whole world, and children like Noah Jr. will barely reach an age where he can enjoy his life."

The room drowned in silence as everyone thought of this. Sylar, who was still mulling over the news as Peter's brother, was uncommonly silent and contemplative. Peter was still wrestling with the news that his mother had traded her life for his, and he was trying to think of any scenario he could to save her.

Angela watched him and turned her eyes to Sylar. "I have to go. I must return to New York. Peter, you'll tell Claire about me, won't you?"

"Mom, there must be another way," Peter said, drawing her into his arms tightly. She resisted lightly, and he let her go. She cupped his jaw with her palm and smiled at him.

"There isn't, Peter. We aren't the ones in control here. Let it be," she said. She kissed his cheek, and he felt her sob against him as they embraced. For almost a minute, he held her, knowing he'd never see his mother again. He blinked tears in his eyes, and he barely let her go. She turned to Sylar and squeezed his arm.

"I'm sorry, my boy," she said. "I can't apologize enough."

He put his hand over hers, feeling oddly comforted, even though she was going to her death. "At least I know now."

She nodded, and like a fuzzy dream, they all watched her as she and her companion began to leave back to their car. Peter and Sylar stared as the black car slowly exit the parking lot of that small motel, and they took comfort in imaging that she was watching them from her seat until she could not see them anymore.

++

Peter thought the hardest thing he ever had to do in his life is watch his mother go to her death. It was worse than that, worse than accepting that Nathan had betrayed him and settled for becoming a government puppet.

None of that was harder than telling Claire about her father.

It had been almost a week since Noah died, and Peter felt the time was right. He would also tell her about Angela, but unfortunately, he doubted she'd be as affected.

The ringer seemed to go on forever, and when Rene answered, Peter tensed up, knowing he'd have to tell the Haitian first about his partner's demise.

"Peter, what news do you have? I have not heard from Noah in many days," he said, his velvet voice not even a comfort like it usually was.

"I'm sorry. I know you guys are off the grid, but something happened in Costa Verde. Noah was right. That doctor came after his family, but he had help." A long pause wedged between them, but Rene said nothing. Peter exhaled heavily. "Rene, Noah is dead. So is Sandra. A special did it, some kind of possession power. Sylar had to neutralize him before he went after Elle and the baby."  
"I see," he said cryptically, and Peter knew that Claire was listening in.

"I need to tell Claire. Let it be me. It's not your responsibility," Peter said.

"Claire." Peter felt the phone rustle between them, and when he could hear her breathing, he spoke.   
"I'm sorry," he said suddenly, knowing she had to suspect something. Quickly, she burst into sobs.   
"What happened?" she asked through her tears. "Please, tell me everything."

"The doctor of that facility they raided in Coyote Sands came after your family while Sylar and Elle were there. You mother sent Lyle to your aunt's but she refused to go with them against your father's wishes. When... the doctor attacked, he brought someone with him who had a strong ability."

"What ability," she sniffed.

"It's body displacement. He...ah took over your father's body, killed your mother, and then tried to kill Elle and the baby. Sylar appealed for your father's release, but neither the doctor nor the other man relented. He killed him... quickly, so to save your father the pain." Peter heard Claire take a long breath. "I don't know the true nature of this power, but I'm guessing your father had no control. He was powerless, but he did go down with a fight."

"Is that supposed to make me feel better?" she lashed at him.

"Claire," Peter started.

"No, no, forget it. Sylar killed my father. That's all I need to know," she sneered.  
"He had no choice. Your father was possessed. He had already killed your mother. Sylar was protecting Elle and the baby," Peter repeated.

"But my father is the sacrifice! How is it that Elle and her baby get to live instead, huh? Tell me that, Peter!" she stormed at him.

Peter raised his voice, knowing the effort was probably futile to convince her at this point. Claire was acting out her grief and anger. "What if it was me, Claire? What if I had to kill Noah to save someone else's life before he could use your father's body to hurt someone else?" The other end of the phone was barely silent, with only Claire's breathing to let him know she was still listening. "It's only because it was Sylar that it's easier to blame him. I understand how you feel, but..."

"No you don't! Sylar should have never been there in the first place! He was in my house, Peter. _My house_ , with Elle, and my mother and now they're dead, but Elle and Sylar and their spawn are alive? And that's all that matters. My dad died so that Sylar and Elle, two known psychopaths, could live!"

"Claire..." He wanted to soothe her, to calm her down and tell it was alright that she was mad. It was okay she had these feelings, and if Peter even dared negate her lack of rational, he feared she'd never forgive him either.

She continued to cry, but Peter did not break the connection. He let her scream and release her feelings, and when she had somewhat settled down, she sounded exhausted.

"Peter, what am I supposed to do now? Huh? I can't even go back and visit their funeral because of my wanted status."

"Mourn them, Claire. Remember them and mourn them in any way that you can," Peter said softly. "And mourn your grandmother too," he added, with his own pain rising in his tone.

"Angela? She's dead too?" Claire paused, and Peter knew that she wasn't expecting that extra news. "What happened?"

"She made a deal with the government. Things are about to change," he said ominously. "And not for the better either."

"So what's the point?" she asked, her anger returning. Mostly, Peter knew she was tired of the hiding, running, and persecution.

"We fight for her, for your dad too, so their deeds were not done in vain," Peter said. "That's what my mother would have wanted."

"And what about Sylar?" she asked gruffly. "So what, he just gets a free pass? He gets to start over because he's a victim too, even after all those people he killed?"

Peter didn't want to take Sylar's side here, but really, they were all criminals as far as the government was concerned. If his mother was right, they would still be seen that way even if anyone off the street could buy this formula and gain abilities just like theirs.

"We all get to start over, Claire," he said, and he felt Sylar's eyes on him. He met the man's gaze, his brother, and he frowned.

"I'll never forgive him, Peter. You tell him. This is a warning," she said, and Peter had never heard such hate and viciousness in his Claire's voice before. "The next time I see him, he's dead. I don't care if he's changed. I don't care if he's got a son and now he's the father of the year. I'll kill him and watch him take his last breath."

Peter sighed. He didn't even want to address that threat, but he'd find some way to pass it along. "You stay safe, Claire. I will see you again."

She scoffed into the phone. "Yeah, I'll see you." Another pause and her voice turned oddly tender. "I love you, Peter."

Before he could reply, the line went dead. He lowered the phone to his side and looked at the floor, avoiding Sylar's gaze. He'd never wanted to be with Claire more than he did right now.  
"What did she say?" Sylar asked cautiously, and Peter shot him a glare.

"You already know."

"She wants to kill me," he said, and Peter knew he'd been listening in the whole time. Peter rolled his eyes and walked toward his sofa.

"Are you surprised?" Peter asked, and in the corner of his eye, Elle and the baby were settling down to bed.

"You didn't tell her we were brothers," Sylar said bluntly, as if that knowledge would have changed Claire's reaction.

"I think she's had enough shock for one night," Peter said, and he fished into his backpack for flask full of whiskey. When he took a swig, he strangely thought of Nathan. Great, now he had two brothers, neither of them he got along with very well.

"So what do we do now? Angela's gone, and the Haitian and Claire are on their own," Sylar said impatiently. "What about us?"

"We hide until this government witch-hunt blows over," Peter said. "Don't worry; I'll stay with you as long as I can."

"And then what? When the formula is out then what do we do?" he asked, and his questions started to annoy Peter. He didn't know why Sylar thought he had all the answers. He met his new brother's eyes and glared.

"We get new identities, and then we go our separate ways. You want to raise your son, and I want to avenge my mother. I will do what she wants and go after Pinehearst," Peter said, and without paying much attention, he'd taken several swigs from his flask. He was starting to feel a nice buzz already. Nothing more than he deserved for what he had to deal with tonight.

Sylar thought about Peter's plan, and he lumbered back to his bed. He glanced at Peter several times while he began to retire for the night, but Peter ignored him the best he could. He was tired of the death, of babysitting Sylar, and desperately he wanted to run away from all of it and find Claire. It'd be better for both of them to leave the country now, forget about Pinehearst and Nathan, and Sylar too, and go start their lives anew. Together. Maybe they could make something of what was left of this family and mourn their dead loved ones in peace.

It was much easier for Peter to think he could just say 'screw the world' and run off with Claire, but he knew deep down that would never happen. His heart would never dare let him.


	5. Birth of the Destroyer

_  
Epilogue: Birth of the Destroyer   
_

_One Year Later..._

 

Her black heels clicked against the slick tile floors as she marched through the building, heading for one special office in mind. Leather creaked and shifted around her body, and she felt her dark ponytail swish like a pendulum on the back of her head. She saw people looking at her curiously, and whispers lifted behind her as she walked toward the front. She kept her gaze ahead, and she smirked a little to give the onlookers an intimidating view.

Claire Bennet had been training to be an operative for more than a year. She had hid in the shadows, learning the ropes of a now extinct Company from the only man she had come to trust beyond her late father and estranged uncle. The Haitian was her only friend, her confidante, and sometime in the last six months, he had become her reluctant lover.

It only showed her persuasive she was. She was a natural, and she knew that she'd be very good at her job.

She'd been on the run for years, but she admitted to being tired of it. Her exasperation caused a lap in judgment, and someone who could run faster had caught up with her and pulled her back onto the grid. Instead of instant execution, she was given two choices: she could become a prisoner and tried as a terrorist, or she could become a government agent who kept unruly specials in line. Obviously, the latter was more appealing.

Plus, she knew she was always destined to be an agent. Her father had shielded her from it in her youth, but after his death and with Rene's training, she knew she would follow in his footsteps and continue his work.

When she found out who was offering her the position, she was even more eager to accept the job.  
She breezed past his frantic secretary, and one cold look forced Nathan's secret service guards aside. She opened the door and stepped inside confidently, giving her birth father a wide smile.

"Senator Nathan Petrelli," she said with a lilt of mockery. "I'm here for my interview."

"Claire," he said breathlessly, as her voice drew him away from his paperwork. She watched as he looked her up and down, and she almost laughed at how creepy it made her feel. Maybe it was something she could use to her advantage. She didn't feel much these days, so Nathan's reaction was more than alluring. He shook himself out of his trance and met her eyes. "There's no need for an interview." He flashed her that winning, politician's smile. "Please sit."

"I'll stand," she said, crossing her arms. She turned around and nodded her head, and Rene moved inside Nathan's office like a shadow, finding a place at Claire's side. "We accept the job."

Nathan chuckled. "That's fast. Don't you want to talk about terms?"

"Oh yes, there are terms, believe me," Claire said. "First, I want to know about this formula. When are you releasing it?"

"It'll reach the market in three months. Congress just passed the regulations for it."

"Ah, but it's already on the market. I've seen some people already claim to use it," Claire said.  
Nathan raised an eyebrow. "Yes, some senators and house members bravely volunteered to try the second trials."

Claire began pacing his room, fiddling with the ostentatious trinkets on his desk. "Yet, I'm assuming that there was no bravery needed. You had already experimented on soldiers before you let high government officials stick out their veins for it."

"I see you're keeping up with the underground news," Nathan said with a toothy grin. "Like father, like daughter."

Claire shot him a glare, and his smile somewhat wilted. "I have my sources," she said, slamming down the picture with his current and second wife, Tracy.

"I knew you would be perfect for this job," he said, standing up. "I have high hopes for you, Claire." He held out his hand, and Claire looked at Rene, and then back at Nathan.

She stared at his hand for a moment as thoughts and plans blazed around in her head. Nathan waited, and soon a small smile tugged at the lips on her face. She shook his hand roughly before drawing away. Nathan came around his desk, stopping in front of her.

"I've missed you," he said lightly, and Claire tilted her head and rested her hand on his bicep.

"Me too," she said, and he drew her into a hug. She felt his warm breath against her as he sighed. "I've wanted to see you for so long."

"I know, and I'm sorry you had to go through all that," he said, and Claire chuckled.

"They hunted me and you let them call me a wanted terrorist," she said, withdrawing from his embrace. She met his eyes with a dangerous stare. "I should kill you for that."

Nathan's smile disappeared, and he scrutinized her. Claire scoffed. "Please, I wasn't serious."  
She watched as Nathan swallowed uncomfortably and offered a cautious smile. "I'm glad to see you've kept a sense of humor after all this time."

Her smile was so forced she wanted to scream. She held her control and walked back toward Rene. "Yes, it is. Now, where can are we staying?"

"Ah, Daphne will show you to your rooms."

"Room," Claire clarified coldly. "Rene and I stay together. Always."

Nathan furrowed his brow slightly. "I see." Claire shot him a challenging look. He'd never been a father to her before, so she dared him to try to disapprove of her relationship with Rene. Nathan seemed rattled by it, but gently shrugged it off and his demeanor oozed into business as usual.

"When do we start?" Claire asked over her shoulder just as they were about to leave.

"First thing tomorrow morning. You're getting our best case," Nathan said, and Claire pivoted her body and met his expression, searching for the origin of his sudden anticipation.

"Oh, don't leave us in suspense," Claire said cheekily. "Give us a spoiler."

"You're first assignment is to hunt down Sylar," Nathan said with a sneer. "Or as we know him, your uncle and my long-lost brother."

Claire's wicked grin put Nathan's to shame. "I always did enjoy family reunions."

As Claire and Rene left Nathan's office, she looked around Pinehearst and suddenly felt a sense of home. She hadn't had a real home in years, not since Costa Verde. While she was on the run, she had wandered so much she felt like a ghost, with no foundation and nowhere to belong. Her parents were gone, and she hadn't talked to her uncle in months. When she did see him, things weren't always pleasant, and she began to feel she'd rather avoid him then have to listen to another one of his sanctimonious lectures about her training and fighting.

She wondered what Peter would think of her now as a Pinehearst agent. She supposed he wouldn't approve. Then again, it wasn't Peter's decision on how she lived her life. He'd never understand anyway.

She was the daughter of a Company man, and now that her father was dead, it behooved her to continue his legacy.

To Claire, this was the natural progression of things - to live her life beyond her greatest potential, and foremost, she would fight for the one true desire that bubbled fiercely within her core. Someday, with Pinehearst's resources, she would fulfill her deepest and most elusive revenge.

 

END


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